Chapter 10

The elder Noble Lord walked in a slow, tense circle about the periphery of the high-domed chamber. As he passed the high, narrow windows, his passage disturbed the motes of dust that hung in the stuffy and stagnant air. Beams of midday sun shone brilliantly on his silver hair, the swirls of dust giving him a halo-like glow about his head.

From the round marble table that dominated the center of the room, the younger Lord smirked. "At this rate, Lord Uras, you will get yourself dizzy walking in circles like this. Or me, from watching you."

Lord Uras K'vaarik frowned as he turned his aged and heavily jowled face towards his younger cohort. "And I would not be so casual about matters, either the situation or where you sit now, Lord Duric!"

Duric was much the contrast to his older cohort. Occupying opposite extremes in age was the least of their differences. Uras had not ceased his pacing or brooding since he had arrived, whereas Duric had made himself quite comfortable and relaxed. He sat with his chair turned partially outward, one leg crossed over the other.

"I understand you pointing out the situation, Lord Uras, but this place as well?" said Duric.

Uras drew himself up to his full height. "Where you sit, Duric, is at a place in history. It was in this room that the Lords of Oceanus planned the last stages of the Great Unification War. This is where they came when Selemas was attacked. And this is where they directed the Monarchists to victory over the Republicans."

"Ah, I see. I wonder if that is why Lord Tarras insisted we..."

Uras frowned. "Hrmph. He did not insist, I did. He wanted to hold these meetings anywhere but here."

"That makes little sense."

"And since when did anything make sense anymore! Tell me that!"

"I mean, Tarras is a student of history himself. This room is part of his own Palace. Why would he not want... ?"

His words were interrupted by the squeal of aging bronze doors as a guard opened them to admit a thin, middle aged man with neat brown hair into the chamber.

Uras turned to him at once. "Lord Tarras! What news?"

Lord Tarras K'riis did not pause to answer until he had approached the table. He did not seem to want to acknowledge either of the men in the room. His gaze was muted and cool. "Lord Handlon has conducted an orderly retreat to the north. Vargalos Province has fallen."

Uras scowled. "That is exactly what we did not need!"

"Oh, come off it, Uras, we've both been telling you this was going to happen eventually," Duric said.

"Not until you provoked them into it!"

"I told you all my reasons for why I followed this strategy. I have already admitted that it did not work as well as I had wished."

"An apology will not make Z'haas' army retreat. The north is now cut off from us! We cannot..."

"Enough," said Tarras. Both Uras and Duric turned towards their host.

Tarras let out a sigh and looked up. Duric was a bit taken aback. He had not remembered seeing the man so haggard, or so lacking of any warmth or geniality.

Duric had learned only recently how Janna's death at the hands of the Emperor had affected Tarras. He was almost embarrassed at how much more Tarras mourned the loss of his undeclared lover as Duric had his cousin. Duric was a blood relation, but it somehow paled to what had developed between Tarras and Janna.

"Lord Duric is right, Uras," Tarras said in a low but firm voice. "We knew this would happen if the Emperor chose to move north."

"But he did not think to move north until Duric pushed him into it!" Uras declared.

Duric shook his head in resignation.

"No, Lord Uras," said Tarras. "Attacking the north is not something done on the spur of the moment. It takes planning and some degree of cunning. Neither of which Z'haas has in any great abundance."

Uras looked as if he wanted to protest, but he threw up his hands and muttered to himself as he took a seat at the table. Duric glanced at him before turning back to Tarras. "You think he got himself a good general?"

"Yes. And, Lord Uras, I might point out that if you wish to lay blame upon someone, please leave it at my doorstep. I was the one who offered to let Z'haas overrun my province."

"And I should have nipped this whole plan in the bud the moment I heard that!" Uras roared. "What foolishness. You would sacrifice your lands and our history to..."

Tarras suddenly laughed.

Uras narrowed his eyes. "I don't recall saying anything amusing, Lord Tarras."

"It was not an amused kind of laugh, Lord Uras."

"Uras was telling me the significance of this chamber," said Duric. "I take it there are more historical sites in Carolas?"

Tarras smiled. It was devoid of humor as well. "Very much of Carolas is history. Oceanus was first conceived of here. This was its capitol for awhile, before the second Emperor moved it to where it is today. And the final surrender of the Republicans was accepted here as well."

Duric nodded. "And you were willing to sacrifice all that?"

Tarras folded his hands thoughtfully before him. He lowered his gaze to the parchment maps strewn across the table. "History is an interesting thing, Duric. We can learn from it. Or we can be hopelessly bound to it. Carolas no longer serves as the former, and is rapidly becoming the latter."

"Oh, now don't you start again!" Uras declared.

Tarras looked up and gave the older Lord a measured look.

Duric glanced between the two of them. "Start what?"

Uras waved a hand. "Well, go on! Tell him the foolishness you inflicted upon me the other day. See if Duric will doubt your sanity as much as I."

Duric grinned at Tarras. "Must be pretty world-shattering."

Tarras allowed himself a tiny but genuine smile. Duric was the only one of the Noble Lords that had earned a cordial discourse. It was more than just the shared tragedy. He saw something of a hopeful future in the brazen Lord Duric.

"Fine, I will tell him," Uras snapped. He turned to Duric. "Lord Tarras here believes we need to shake things up. Reform the Nobility system. Share power across provinces and with the Emperor. And even the common rabble!"

Duric looked dubious. "Come now, Uras. Tarras is no Republican."

"Indeed, I am not," Tarras said, rising to his feet. "And Lord Uras misrepresents my views. I spoke of Nobility reaching out to the so-called 'rabble' to understand their place in Oceanus better. I said nothing of granting them government power. All I stated was that the governed should cease to be a cipher or a number in a ledger."

Duric rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting idea."

"Oh, now don't you get hooked into this!" Uras said. "If he thinks for one moment that this war will be a vehicle for him to push his radical agenda..."

"I have no such desires," Tarras said loudly. "In fact, when this is over, I am stepping down as Lord of Carolas and will quietly retire." He looked squarely at Lord Uras. "You will no longer be subjected to my deranged ramblings again."

Uras looked taken aback. "Well ... see here, I didn't mean..."

"Look, can we get back to why we're meeting in the first place and discuss politics later?" Duric said.

Tarras nodded and retook his seat. "My apologies."

Duric actually believed it was Uras that should apologize, but decided not to belabor the point. "All right, so Z'haas is going to attack the north. I still see the Emperor's armies getting bogged down in the mountains."

"After overrunning half of Appalanchia!" Uras cried.

"I know, I know. But it will exhaust him. He can raise men and materials only so fast, now that the merchants are actively hampering him. Meanwhile, we grow in size and strength and can hit the Emperor hard when he is weak."

Uras slapped his hand on the table. "I refuse to give up Appalanchia without a fight!"

Tarras steepled his fingers. "I tend to agree."

Duric stared at Tarras in surprise.

"Letting Appalanchia go without making an effort would be foolhardy," said Tarras.

"Yes, now you're finally making some sense!" Uras declared. He clenched his hand into a fist. "We will fight Z'haas for every hand-span of ground!"

"Make no mistake, Lord Uras, we will not win that battle," said Tarras.

Uras frowned. "You'll pardon me if I still contend that we should try."

Tarras shook his head. "No. It will be a token resistance at best. A fighting retreat."

"Why?" Duric asked. "I mean, why do it at all in that case?"

"I overheard you say that I was a student of history. Wars are not won by strength of arms alone, but by the hearts of men. And to tell them to simply let the enemy enter their lands without a fight would be to rip out that heart."

"Yet you were willing to do it to Carolas."

Tarras contemplated. "Perhaps because I feel it is I that has lost heart rather than my men."

Uras looked awkwardly from Duric to Tarras. "Ah, well ... yes ... ah ... it is good to see you come around at last, Lord Tarras."

"Yes, well, there's the question of getting forces to the north," Duric said.

"Can we not repeat what we did before? Find an Overlord and use his Portal to transport..."

"It took considerable time and expense to do that the first time, two things we have little of in the short term," said Tarras. "And the Emperor will be watching for something on that scale and find a way to stop it. His spies have infiltrated everywhere. It would take only a small act of sabotage to disrupt a Portal in a dangerous way."

Duric smiled. "Wait. You said 'on that scale.' What if we did something small? And scattered over multiple Overlord Portals, so none of them was taxed to the point of requiring a Mage to hold it open and stable?"

Uras frowned. "Would that even amount to anything?"

"About two regiments. Maybe three."

"Hrmph. Hardly a drop in the bucket. Not even a full legion."

"No. But imagine if you would what the Appalanchians will think when soldiers appear in their midst from clear across the continent just to help them in their plight."

"I get it," Duric said. "It will inspire them."

"Exactly."

Uras looked dubious. "Well ... I would still feel better if you could somehow transport some catapults and siege towers," he muttered.

"Hearts of men, Lord Uras. That is what will win this war. That is what lost it for the Republicans so long ago. Emperor Z'haas does not inspire. Therefore, we must."

"I do hope you are right, Tarras."

"What of the remainder of my forces, Lord Tarras?" Duric asked. "What do you suggest we do?"

Tarras paused a long moment before looking him in the eye. "Move them forward. Into Carolas, and be ready to strike when opportunity arises."

Uras chuckled. "Feeling suddenly protective of your history, are you?"

Tarras shook his head. "No. But my own words made me realize how important symbols are to the people. Conducting a successful war from the place where it had been done before will have another positive affect on morale. However, we will have to be careful to let the symbolism stop there, or we will face this again in a future generation."

Uras sighed windily as he rose to his feet. "All I can say to that, Lord Tarras, is that I intend to be long and cozily dead when that time comes. I care about what is happening now. Let the future generations handle the future. Good day to you, Lords."

Uras quickly exited the chamber.

One corner of Duric's mouth rose. "Not exactly a forwarding-thinking type, is he?"

Tarras leaned back in his seat. "He is acting simply like many aged men do. Set in his ways and difficult to change. I suspect we will meet that fate some day. However ... it does mean that I can no longer support the idea of Uras as interim Emperor."

Duric smirked humorlessly. "You and me both. But that doesn't leave us with much."

"It leaves us with you."

Duric laughed. Tarras raised a speculative eyebrow at him.

"None of the other Lords would go for that," said Duric. "You'd be hard-pressed to stop a second rebellion against me."

"Leave that to me."

Duric stared. His humor evaporated at once. "You're actually serious."

"Duric, I cannot stress how much I believe that new thinking is required in the Imperium. You would make an excellent Emperor in that regard. Not interim, but the real thing."

Duric shook his head and stood up. "Now I know you must be kidding. Good day to you."

Duric started to leave. Tarras grabbed his arm.

"Promise me you will consider it," Tarras said in a low voice. "Please. Oceanus is desperate for new, dynamic leadership. You can provide that. The very first Emperor of Oceanus was not much older than you, and look what was accomplished."

Duric extricated his arm from Tarras' grip. "You put far too much faith in me, Tarras. Far too much."

He turned away from Tarras and continued out of the chamber.

The Imperial Master Agent put up a good appearance. For all purposes, he was an independent merchant, much like Jollis himself claimed to be.

He had presented himself as a maverick. It would do well to cover the convenience of his fortuitous appearance in providing his quarry with the platinum he needed, as well as explain the sudden issue with the terms of the trade.

He wore a smarmy grin upon his lips as he approached two of Jollis' robed and hooded Cohorts. He crossed the clearing with a swagger that came to be expected of him. "Now I do hope your Master bothers to turn up," he said with a tone of mocking amusement.

One of the Cohorts gave him a solemn look. "The word of Master Jollis is sacrosanct. The appointed hour of his arrival has not yet come. He is likely on the final leg of his journey."

The Master Agent chortled and turned from him with a sweep of his cape. "You know, those goods he sold me, I'll bet I could get them cheaper from the Urisi."

The Cohorts exchanged a look. The first said, "Master Jollis is the more convenient supplier in this time of turmoil. I am sure you will come to see that he has treated you fairly."

"And some of those goods may be too exotic to procure from the Urisi," said the second.

The Master Agent turned towards them, folded his arms and shrugged. He sat upon a large bolder at the edge of the clearing. "You know, you may be right about that. Wonder what the Merchant Guild would think about his, ah, questionable sources of goods in that case."

"Ah, I see," said the first Cohort. "You wish a bribe."

The Master Agent laughed. "Perhaps. Call it what you want. I just see a bigger opportunity here, and if this Jollis fellow wants to keep at his little game, he's gotta deal me in."

The first Cohort fell silent. The second gave him a curious look.

The Master Agent smirked. "Got ya on that one, huh?"

"If you would pardon me for one moment, I wish to confer with my partner," said the first Cohort.

The Master Agent paused, shrugged, and waved a hand dismissively.

The first Cohort bowed respectfully and ushered his friend past the edge of the clearing and towards the river. Once they were in the deep shade of the trees, and the rush of water masked their low voices, the second spoke.

"You are suspicious."

The first nodded. "Very."

"Only now?"

A shake of his head. "No. I have been for the past day. You?"

"Since this morning. Faint, odd noises in the forest, always when he is around."

The first nodded. "Your tracking and ranger skills do you well. How many?"

"Two. Perhaps three."

"Armed?"

"Likely."

The first glanced back towards the clearing. "The Wanderer must be warned."

The second nodded. "Will you confirm first?"

"Of course. It will be fairly obvious if I am right."

"Agreed. I shall follow your lead."

The two returned to the clearing. The first Cohort stepped forward. "It is our opinion that if it is a bribe that you wish, we can most amply negotiate such a thing without the need of Master Jollis."

The Master Agent raised an eyebrow. "Do tell?"

"We have access to considerable funds. You can be paid quite handily in no more than a day. It will save Master Jollis some trouble if he does not have to come here."

"But he's already on his way. He's almost upon us now."

"Nevertheless, he will appreciate not having to deal with this himself."

The Master Agent shook his head adamantly. "No, I will do business only with Jollis. No one else. So we might as well just wait for him."

The first Cohort exchanged a look with the second. The first spoke. "Very well. But it behooves me to inform my Master of this new development."

"Huh? But he's just about..."

The first Cohort reached into his robes and extracted a blue pearl and held it in his palm before him.

The Master Agent leapt from his seat. "Men! To me!"

As the first Cohort raised his other hand, the clearing was filled with the thump of booted feet and the scrape of metal. By the time his hand hovered over the pearl, the tips of three Imperial soldiers' swords hovered less than a hand-span from his body.

"Drop the pearl," said the Master Agent, all pretense gone, his face hard stone.

The first Cohort calmly turned his palm and let the Farviewing pearl drop to the grass.

The Master Agent's eyes flicked over to one of the soldiers. "Take it." The soldier nodded and made it disappear into his hand. The Master Agent turned to the Cohorts. "You two. Over there at the other end of the clearing, away from the river. Move."

The two methodically crossed the clearing, the soldiers' swords ever-present.

"Face the clearing."

The two turned and folded their hands calmly before him.

The Master Agent turned to the soldiers. "Get back into the forest." He pointed to one. "You. Stay near them. If they make any suspicious move or reach for something in their robes, kill them both." He smiled at the Cohorts. "Nothing personal, you understand. Just doing my job. Now, be still and be quiet."

Neither Cohort seemed to react. The Master Agent's eyes narrowed for a moment before he turned away.

They were not worried. There was no reason to be. Their Master had been warned.

Evella stared at the contents of the flask, hardly daring to believe it.

As the pipette continued to drip fluid into the flask, the accumulating liquid had transmuted before her eyes from amber, to deep gold, to crimson. And now it remained, growing an ever deeper shade of post-sunset red, faintly glowing in the late morning light.

The last drop clung to the end of the tubing, paused, then plopped into the flask, rippling the surface for a few moments before growing still.

Evella reached out a hand, found that it was shaking and withdrew. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. She picked up the flask and held it to the light of her oil lamp.

It was perfect. The reaction had taken. She stoppered the flask and shook it rigorously. When the liquid ceased swirling, it looked as it had before. No foaming, no color fade, no separation of ingredients. She removed the stopper. There was no "pop" of accumulated gas. The mixture was perfectly, utterly stable.

She set the flask down. "I did it," she whispered. "Oh gods, I finally did it."

Evella was not thinking of the implications of her work, or what the Overlord could do with it. She was thinking only that her own personal nightmare was over. Once she wrote down the formula, Freya could reproduce it at will. She wouldn't need Evella anymore.

She also was not thinking of the revelation she had uncovered about the Draught of Forgetfulness, that it merely blocked memories rather than erased them. That every slave ever taken in the entire history of Oceanus slave trade still retained all his or her memories of the past, but locked away behind a barrier induced by the Draught.

Evella bolted and burst out of her Office. Normally she tried to cover up her intimate regions with her hands. She avoided running, as it only set her breasts bouncing on her chest. This time she didn't care. She tore down the path to the Overlord's quarters.

Freya was not there. Evella drew up short and gasped as she found two female slaves being taken from behind by two male slaves.

As a deep blush glowed on Evella's face, a third female slave sitting off to side looked up. She did not pause for a moment in her gentle masturbation as she said in a languid voice. "Looking for Mistress Freya?"

Evella nodded, clinging to the door frame.

"Mmm, she's at the gate with some merchants."

Evella glanced at the two couples, their moans nearly drowning out the slave's response. "Th-thank you..." she stammered, her eyes still on the couples as she turned to leave.

Evella swallowed hard and headed towards the gate. She quickened her pace as it appeared from behind a bend in the path, only to stop when she saw the gathering taking place just beyond the entrance.

Freya stood to one side, a group of four female slaves in a loose group nearby. Before them were two oddly robed and hooded men. They seemed to be conferring with the Overlord.

When one of the men turned in Evella's direction, she gasped and ducked into the foliage of the garden, crouching to conceal herself.

The other turned away and took a few steps. He held something in the palm of his hand, something that glowed bright blue.

A sudden, powerful bolt of lightning struck down from the clear skies. Thunder rolled over her, the ground vibrating faintly under her feet. Energy folded in on itself, and a Portal entrance appeared.

Evella watched as the four slaves formed a line and marched into the Portal, vanishing the moment they entered the sphere of glowing energy. Once the last one was gone, the robed man waved a hand over the pearl he held. The Portal closed with a boom that made Evella's eardrums ring.

The men conferred with Freya again. They handed the Overlord a bag. Freya looked inside it, then nodded. They parted company, the men heading away into the forest and the Overlord heading back into the Manor.

Evella popped out of the foliage and approached Freya. "Mistress! Mistress, please, a moment of your time!"